


The Forge

by Baitnate



Category: Original Work
Genre: Best Friends Forever, Fire, Gay Male Character, Murder, Transformation, University, tragic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baitnate/pseuds/Baitnate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tragic tale of two heartbroken friends and guardian angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Forge

Warning: This story contains harsh language and some religious themes, so don't read this if you're easily offended. Also, do not try this at home. You will die. 

 

“As fire refines gold, suffering refines virtue.”  
-Chinese Proverb

 

“You have to. You have no other choice, Celeste.” The woman with the blood red hair and the blood red lips demanded, her voice regal with truth and brimstone. “We had a deal.”   
She grasped the wheel of the car, tears rolling down her face. “No, please, isn't there something else I can offer?”  
“No. It has to be this way. There are rules to these things, Celeste. Rules you cannot comprehend in the greater cosmic scale of things. It has to be him.”  
“I..... can't....”  
“You must.” The woman with the blood red lips spoke sternly, and her eyes flickered orange.   
“No.... Please Lilith, no.”  
“Celeste, darling.” The lady wrapped her arm and took Celeste's chin in her hand, holding her close to her face so that their eyes locked. She voice was so soft, so loving. “Why do you care for this boy?”  
“Because....” She could not protest.  
“Because what?” Lilith's tone went stern again. “Celeste, you can't be sympathetic to this boy. For one, he's not even into you. He's a faggot, the worst kind of man in the existence of existence. And worse, he sold you out so he could keep living with his other frathouse faggot friends. He calls you his 'best friend', when he won't even stand up to your own rapist.....”  
“But I've known Tristan forever....”  
Lilith's smile became a scowl within seconds, and her voice became a sirocco of hellborne violence. “LISTEN TO YOURSELF, FOOLISH GIRL!” Awe and terror overcame Celeste as she was flung backwards against the car-door, her head banging against the glass but not shattering it. She shrieked and cried. “You DARE call yourself a woman?! You are a fucking disgrace. You're like EVE, just laying below Adam and sucking his microscopic cock..... I should just rip out your ovaries right now and put you out of your fucking misery!”   
“No, please!” Celeste cried, shielding her face. “No, I'm sorry Lilith.”  
Lilith let her silky fingers caress Celeste's thigh, her voice changing back to loving big sister, and her eyes became grey as falling ash. She gave the girl a small half-smile. “Sweet Celeste, my darling little redheaded girl. You have to learn something about the world. The world is run by men. The world is their playground. You are just an object to be exploited and destroyed, tossed away like a piece of garbage. I mean, look at the men of the world! Look at how their destroy and then rebuild grotesque things just to show how big their cock is!”  
Celeste was in awe, her eyes glazing over as Lilith's honeyed words sank into her skin, boiling her blood with rage. Lilith smiled, for she had Celeste fully. “They kill off the animals, and they treat the fairer sex -you and I- like a piece of steak at a banquet. You could have gotten pregnant.... and what man would have come to your side? Certainly not Scott or Connor, even if it was their own child.”  
Celeste hugged herself tightly, trying not to be in the real world. Surely, this must have been a bad dream, she reasoned.... But Lilith slapped her back to earth! She gripped her thigh, and a powerful burning sensation shot through her skin! Lilith's eyes were blazing with rage as Celeste cried out.  
“See, girl?! Do you see now?!” Lilith bellowed. “All men are beasts who need to be exterminated and forgotten. The sooner, the better. Only then, sweet Celeste..... can all women be free.”  
Celeste sobbed and accepted the embrace from Lilith. For the words of the woman with the blood red hair and the blood red lips were the truth. “How did it feel, Celeste?” Lilith spoke once more. “How did it feel to burn the life out of Connor? How did it feel to make the blood in his veins boil? How did it feel to watching him scream in agony, and then know that it was YOU who was killing him?”  
“It felt.... fantastic.” Celeste did not look at her. She only stared at the floor, only beginning to realize what her victory was going to cost her.   
“If you want to experience that again, and destroy the monster that haunts your sleep, then you must pay the price.” Lilith smirked. “Scott is still roaming around. How many other girls do you think he's going to rape before someone stops him?”  
The redheaded mortal closed her eyes. “Just this once?”  
“Just once. I promise.” Lilith's lips spoke not a word of truth, but sounded true nonetheless.

***

Tristan awoke as the bright lights tickled his eyelids open. He realized he was bound in a straightjacket, laying on a gurney, with his legs chained to the edges. A silver sliver of duct tape lay across his lips and stood vigil against any screaming he might have done. He locked eyes with Lilith, staring down at him with a malicious grin on her bloody lips as they rolled him away to his doom. Celeste did not look at him, only pulling the cart ahead. Her red hair, once vibrant as her soul, lay dead, hanging from her skull like starved lichen. He could not see it, but she had been crying hard, tears forming rivers down her cheeks as they did a suicidal dive onto the floor below.  
“Mmmm!” Tristan struggled, trying to get out of his jacket. Lilith smiled at him.  
“You get what you deserve, betrayer.” She remarked. Celeste suddenly jumped from her skin, glancing sideways at her once former friend.   
“Keep going, Celeste. It will all be over soon.” Lilith commanded, and she silently obeyed. Tristan furiously struggled, trying to get loose. But to no avail. The lady in the back laughed at his plight, her white teeth faintly red and her exhaling winds being hotter than mortal breath.   
They came upon a chamber at the end of the hall, and Tristan looked up at Celeste, who turned away, trying not to look at him. It was then that he saw the oven, it's door open wide, with a black maw hungry for wet flesh to drain with it's fiery breath. He did not noticed the silky fingers of the she-demon as she ripped the tape from him his lips.  
“Fuck!” Tristan cried.  
“Serves you right.” Lilith snapped. “Do you need a moment?” She asked her companion.  
“Yes, please.” Celeste responded, not looking at either of them.  
“Celeste? What are you doing?!” Tristan cried.  
“Very well. But don't take too long. I don't have all night.” Lilith strode out, leaving them alone. Tristan immediately turned to Celeste, trying to get her to face him. Yet she couldn't.   
“Celeste! Get me out of this, please!” He begged.  
She shook her head.  
“Celeste.... are.... are you going to...”  
“Yes, Tristan.” Celeste turned to face him finally, and he saw not an ounce of affection on her face. Something was.... gone, replaced with bile and hatred. Pure wrath adorned her face like a pallid mask, and her eyes were wild with malice. It was unlike her to the fullest. “You're going to die tonight. Get over it.”  
“What?!” Tristan struggled to sit up in his straightjacket. “Celeste! Please, don't do this!”  
“Shut up!” Celeste commanded, barely containing herself. “You.... I hate you! I hate your fucking guts!” She bellowed, spittle flying out with her vexing oratory.   
“Wait, what did I ever do to you?!” Tristan protested.   
“You.... YOU don't even KNOW?!” He could have sworn her eyes were embers ablaze. “You fucking betrayed me! You.... you knew! You knew! You knew! You knew about Scott and Connor at that party!”  
“Celeste, wait!” Tristan protested, although it was more like begging. “No! I never meant to betray you!”  
“LIAR!” Celeste cried, her ears remembering the words Lilith spoke to her. “You could have told the police about Scott and Connor, about everything!”  
“I went to the headmaster..... but he.... he wouldn't do shit!” He explained. “I tried, Celeste, I really did. He also told me to stop harassing my own frat-mates! I mean, Christ the guy...”  
“Just shut up.” Celeste rubbed the tears out of her eyes. “You could have done something to help me. You're supposed to be my BFF!” She was sobbing harder, her voice cracking hard. “Remember when we were kids? We'd promised to be each other's guardian angels?”  
Tristan himself suddenly teared up. “You.... you remember that?” It was indeed so long ago.   
“YES!” Celeste bellowed at the top of her lungs. “I remember it well, and I followed through! I protected your secret for the longest, longest time, and when it was your turn to protect me, you dropped the ball!”   
“Celeste!” Tristan cried. “I don't know what that woman told you.... but you're not a murderer! Please don't do this!”   
“Oh, I AM a murderer, Tristy.” She smiled; it was the smile of a lunatic, and it showed. Tristan felt a shiver crawl down his spine, like one of a giant hairy spider on the back that he could not pull off as it skittered freely. “I killed Connor.”  
“What the fuck, Celeste?! That's not possible!”  
“I boiled him alive. Lilith gave me the power.” She kept smiling. “Lilith showed me a lot of things about you men..... and now I'm gonna make the world a safer place. Some men are toxic; I am the cure, Tristan!”  
“You- you're really gonna do this?” Tristan felt his heart sink, for he knew the answer.  
“I'm going to throw you in the oven and crank the heat up to the highest setting.” She snapped, wrath flying with every breath. “I hear it takes about two hours for a body to be reduced to ash, but if you're lucky you'll be dead long before that.”  
“I'm so sorry.” Tristan replied.  
“You can't beg, Tristan! I need to do this. I NEED justice.” Celeste pursed her lips together, and they formed a line paler than her flesh. Tristan lay on his back, head facing the ceiling. A tear formed in the outermost corner of his eye.   
“So that's it?” He asked. He was surprised how calm he was, and how much his soul had sunken into despair... it was strange, for he felt no fear for himself dying, only that his dear Celeste, friend since forever, was hurting so badly that she was going to burn him to death.  
“What's it?” She fumed.  
“That's all our years together are worth to you?” Tristan sniffed. A tear rolled down his cheek.   
She was crying now as well, twin streams bursting from below her eyelids. “Yes.... yes.... YES.”  
Tristan sighed, his breath broking by sniffles and parted breaths of sorrow. Whatever the icy bitch Lilith had said to fiery Celeste, it was futile for him to try and bargain his way out. So, he turned to her, his face stained but his eyes locked onto her's with utmost intensity. “Can I make one last request?”  
“...What?!” Celeste was caught off-guard by it. “I'm going to KILL you, you stupid bastard.”  
“I know.” Tristan spoke. His voice was a little shaky. “Can you at least tell Mom I love her? I never got the chance.”  
That was it. Celeste could not help but flee the room before she cried anymore. Tristan still struggled, half-heartedly, trying to get himself free before..... it was too late. Lilith, enraged with hellish stars for oculars, stormed into the room like a summer tempest, her bloody red hair flying and her blood red lips pursed together trying to crush themselves.   
“That is quite enough, boy!” She bellowed.   
“Blow me.” Tristan spat at her, nailing her straight on the cheek. She scowled and screamed and shrieked in blazing high tones, She was quick to unlock the surface on which he lay, and with fiendish strength, slid him, body, tray and all into the oven chamber.   
“Stupid fucking MAN!” She roared. “You will pay for that....”  
“You're not going to get away with this. It might not be me, but someone's going to kill you, you cunt. Watch your back.”  
“Your words mean NOTHING, mortal. I'm gonna fry you up and serve you extra crispy in Hell! Enjoy your last few hours on Earth, fag!” SLAM! CRANK! WHENCH! The door to the fiery furnace locked itself tight, and it hummed like a beast not of this plane of existence. 

***

The most disturbing part was the heat, how it slowly built up, and over time, it kept growing and growing. Tristan tried to remain calm; he was totally alone, standing.... er, laying down in a chamber of chipped bricks and heat-proof shielding on a bed of ash and bones. He had never been closer to the dead before.  
He was sweating waterfalls, and it dried almost instantly on contact with the air. He kept his eyes shut, lest they boil over and melt out of his face. His lips were so dry and his throat was blanched from the sheer heat. He could barely breathe and knew his time was nearly over. He tried not to smell the air, and he almost could smell his hair burning.   
Tristan remembered, though.  
He remembered the old days when him and Celeste would stride through their little town, innocent in all things and the best of friends. They had been neighbors, but they were more than that. Celeste's mother still hoped to this day that they would get married and have the cutest damn babies ever.... except, well, Tristan being gay and all.... They'd chase the ice cream trucks, walk their idiot dogs in the park, and even in high school they kept up their friendship. They'd go boy-watching, style their hair and always had someone safe to party with.   
How had he gone wrong? He chastised himself for his weakness; he had let Scott and Connor blackmail him into submission, and going to their coach was of no use either. But why hadn't Celeste gone to the police? She had no evidence, but surely.... No, he realized it was all in the past now. There was no future for him.   
He felt the flames begin to ignite; he felt his own blood begin to boil in his veins. He felt his scalp itch and disintegrate. His flesh began to peel, and the marrow in his bones began to bubble. His nostrils were scorched dry and cracked open, the cartilage beginning to melt like wax from a human candle. He wanted to scream, but that would have been a waste of energy; his burning lips, though, parted and he inhaled the winds of Hell themselves. He choked and sputtered, his lungs gasping.   
But he let out a final cry.  
“I'm sorry Celeste!” He cried to Heaven.

***

“AWAKEN!”  
Tristan's eyes suddenly burst open, golden iris with silver in the white of them, and he looked down at his form. The fire had burned away his clothes and his restraints, with the chains around his ankles unlocked and cast aside, their metal melting away in obsolete despair! His flesh was shining, brilliant, elegant in his composure! He had the coloration of white liquid steel, and his hair swayed in the maelstrom of blazing winds that circulated through the oven.   
The biggest change, though, were the cramped wings that sprouted from his back, the red, orange and yellow feathers shimmering as they cooled in the heat.... as illogical as it sounded, that is what they were doing. They encircled the brickwork, folding around his form, they were surprisingly sharp, yet soft to the touch. His fingers felt them them so, and they reminded him of his pillow back home on his bed.   
He took to fury. Pure fury of the celestial kind.   
With a scream, a shout and a sound that could not be replicated except by the most intricate harmonic device, he slammed his wings against the brick-work, and it collapsed as if made of sticks and straw, flying outward in an explosion of fiery defiance!!!  
As he climbed out, into the empty room where the ovens, which had cooked so many dead bodies before him, he stood, and he alone had come out of one, transformed and alive and something so much more.  
“Aaaaahhhhhh....” He moaned, opening his lungs to the sky, letting the cool air sooth his throat. It was like drinking the glacier's ice. He stretched out his wings, their full might and beauty now out for all to witness. It was a glorious rebirth from the forge of death.   
“Celeste....” He wheezed, getting his vocal cords to work again. He glanced once more towards the sky, a declaration upon his lips. He knew what he had to do. He had a best friend to save, and demonic bitch to beat down.   
“I dropped the ball once....” He spoke. “I'm still your guardian angel, Celeste!”

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Tristan: http://i1213.photobucket.com/albums/cc469/Baitnate25/Protagonist.jpg  
> Celeste: http://i1213.photobucket.com/albums/cc469/Baitnate25/Celeste.jpg


End file.
